


The Other Woman

by autopsyofwebs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cisgirl!Zayn, Cissexswap, Copious Amounts Of Swearing, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Pining, cisgirl!niall, vaguely hinted at sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autopsyofwebs/pseuds/autopsyofwebs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Niall’s the other woman only not really, and falls in love with Zayn through their mutual fuck-buddy and late nights out in the supermarket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Woman

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this angsty and smutty. I really did. BUT I love Zayn and Niall together because they’re sweet and easy and fit together so well so it turned out kinda fluffier than I intended. (Ziall is a boon in troubled times tbh). I also tried to include the other boys (because ot5 is the true otp), but only made minimal references to them in the end since they ended up not fitting in the story. Hope you enjoy anyways.

The first thing that Niall does when she arrives at the party is get herself a drink. Not that she can’t wait to get a pint, but Louis’ already fucked off somewhere, left her at the door with a _have fun nialler!_ and a soft touch to the waist before disappearing into the crowd. Niall sighs, but gets over it quick enough – she’s already spotted a few classmates scattered around, and if she gets desperate enough, she knows Louis won’t actually be too far away; she’ll probably be talking to that new freshie she’s had her eye on for a few weeks now.

It’s loud, but Niall’s already more relaxed than she’s felt in weeks. She likes being around people, likes the atmosphere of parties, where the crowd moves like a wave and she can just let herself be pulled along. She lifts her beer to her lips lazily, thinks idly about maybe doing some shots later.

As it is though, a group of gathering spectators catch her interest, all around what seems to be a set-up game of beer pong. There are two guys on one side and one guy alone on the other side – he seems to be pleading towards a crowd of his friends, laughing good naturedly when rejections fill the air. She gets close enough to hear the tail end of,

“–eed a partner, c’mon guys.”

The guy seems nice enough, tall with blue eyes and side-swept brown hair. She chugs the rest of her beer and steps up. “I’m game if y’are mate.”

He blinks at her. “Alright thanks man,” he responds, grinning. “Name’s Josh, you are?

“Niall.” She turns to the other two guys. “You’re about to get your asses handed to ya by the way.”

A collective wave of laughter follows that and she hides her grin behind a smirk. She’s always loved a challenge.

He laughs, bows to her in a slightly tipsy way. “Well alright, my type of partner.”

-

The next morning, Niall groans when the insides of her eyelids are assaulted with light. Her chest is bare and she’s slightly chilly; it’s weird because she usually has a tendency to burrow into the sheets, but her head’s too fucked to pay attention to that right now and the taste of dirty rags pushing up through the back of her throat is too distracting, makes her want to get up and hug the nearest toilet. Her feet get caught up in the blankets and she mumbles out curses as she settles at the edge of the bed. Rubbing her head, she breathes out against the weariness that settles across her.

Ok, mental check: head’s pounding, mouth tastes like shit, and there’s an ache to her body, but overall, not too fucked. She stands up, wants to go to the bathroom to wash the flavor out of her mouth, but stops when she realizes that she doesn’t know where the fuck she is. Also, if the pebbled flesh on her stomach implies, she’s also pretty sure that she’s naked except for a pair of underwear.

She grabs the tank sitting by the bed, looking crumpled but relatively clean, and slips it on. The room’s smaller and neater than her own; she internally groans and looks back at the bed, and there’s a lump curled underneath the blankets.

“Fuck,” she sighs as bits and pieces of last night start coming back up – that guy that’d she’d played beer pong with, how they’d followed that game up with shots, and drunkenly made out in a corner, eventually stumbling into a cab and then into his sheets. Niall settles back against the headboard, rubbing at her eyes, but gets up when her stomach rumbles, needing some sort of coffee or food or both. _Please both_ she thinks as her head throbs.

She walks through his bedroom door, finds the kitchen without much difficulty and rinses her mouth out in the sink. _Might as well get something outta this,_ Niall thinks as she opens the fridge. She grins, spotting a packet of bacon. _Jackpot._

-

Niall waits for the bacon to cook, poking at it idly and a little impatiently. Looking around, it seems like a typical college apartment, maybe a little neater than what she usually sees, but no outward signs of douchebaggery so she thinks she’s good.

As she turns back to the bacon, she notices a crumpled up comic stuck to his fridge door with a magnet – a cartoon drawing of batman. There are a few other sketches that surround it, but they all look like they’re from the same hand. They all have that playful touch to it, exaggerated like comic-book style, but clean lines that speak of some skill. She traces the paper – it’s ripped out of a notebook and it makes her smile a bit, a brief moment of boredom and meandering hands captured. She’s endeared really.

She’s too busy fingering the edges of the paper that she doesn’t notice him enter. Josh wraps his hands around her hips and she lets out a started laugh, one that morphs into a mock-annoyed batting away of hands when he tries to steal a piece of bacon and burns himself.

“Serves ya right,” Niall teases with a wide grin and turns off the fire. She starts taking the pieces out, laying them on a paper towel. Josh shrugs and glances longingly behind her at the pile of bacon.

She works in silence for a few seconds before saying, “y’know you’re not bad, I didn’t know you could draw.” She glances at him when she says it, trying to get a grasp of who this guy is.

His eyebrows furrow, but relax when she gestures to the pictures on the fridge.

“Ah, that’s not me, that’s Zayn’s stuff,” he explains, “my girlfriend.” He says it like it’s as easy as the weather, like it’s not making Niall’s stomach drop out from underneath her and her eyes widen.

She thinks she murmurs something in assent or shock, but she’s a bit light-headed and there’s a litany of _fuck fuck fuck_ running through her head. Niall fidgets, runs a hand through her messy blond fringe, wonders at the sudden feeling of freefalling within her, because yes, she can admit she’s a selfish person, a little too insensitive sometimes, but she thinks she has morals at least, knows where to draw the fucking line.

He pauses and settles a hand on her shoulder. She’s tempted to shake it off, a little mad now because what kind of guy fucking cheats on his girl and then admits it to the girl he’s cheating on her with. She silently curses, _it’s too fucking early in the morning to deal with this_ she thinks, but his voice breaks through her thoughts, gentle like she’s the one that needs to be reassured.

“It’s fine, we have an open relationship,” he admits, dropping his hand and turning to get eggs out of the fridge. “It’s not really even a relationship actually; I call her my girlfriend because we’ve had a thing for a few months now and it’s a hassle to explain our relationship to everyone who asks, so,” he shrugs, “it’s easier to just call her my girlfriend.”

Niall deflates a little. Ok, that’s better than what she was expecting – they’re not really together she supposes, just maybe fuck buddies or a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. Besides, if it’s something they’ve both agreed on, then she doesn’t really have the right to judge them for what they choose to do with their personal life.

As if sensing her discomfort, he claps his hands and moves onto another subject, footy, which she can definitely get behind. He makes eggs to go with her bacon and they eat breakfast together; he’s funny, unassuming and a bit cheekier than she’d remembered him being.

And besides, he licks her out in the shower afterwards; she grips his hair, wishes it was longer, smoother, so she can really pull at it like she likes, but she comes easily enough. She relaxes into the wall behind her and he slips her a lazy grin from between her legs. _Fuck, if he can do that with his tongue then maybe this isn’t such a bad idea_ , Niall thinks dazedly, pulling him up and reaching down to help him out.

He slides his number into her jean pocket afterwards, says to“call me if you want, this was fun,” and she leaves, grins at the absurdity of it a bit and thinks _yeah,_ _why not._

-

It takes her a week before she calls Josh. She’s legitimately busy at first, but Saturday night comes and she’s horny and the number’s burning a hole in her pocket. She still feels a little uneasy, but as soon as he answers and says he’s free, she leaves. Normally, she doesn’t do this kind of thing – get involved in drama or relationship issues because she’s never seen them as being worth it in the end, but being with Josh is surprisingly simple.

It’s not really a relationship; he or Niall calls the other to meet up, and they either hang out or fuck. It’s more like booty calls than anything, but Niall likes to fancy herself the other woman – not that it’s particularly hot to cheat on someone, but because it gives her a quiet thrill, to be the one someone will chase after, want.

-

Her life, despite everything, doesn’t change much; she still has the shitty cashier job at the supermarket around the block, still has a shit ton of school work she avoids doing, still spends most of her time playing Xbox with Louis eating takeout from Nandos.

Except now, she has the added benefit of a guaranteed “pull” every weekend night. She still likes going to parties and clubs, but it’s easier not having to shove her way into a skirt and top to chat some guy up so she can get off – now she can just enjoy herself and get hammered, and she has a backup if, and when, she gets horny. So really, things are ok, pretty good in fact.

(She doesn’t think much of the fact that Josh has a “girlfriend” or some other girl that he’s fucking after a while – she’s always been pretty easygoing about relationships and since it’s all consensual she doesn’t really give a fuck. But it’ll hit her sometimes, when Josh’s licking her out on the couch or she’s giving him a handy in the shower, that there’s an unmistakable presence there, peeking out from his drawers and settling across his kitchen, his living room. The constant buzz of her thoughts turn from _fuck I’m not a homewrecker_ into _does zayn know_ , a question that pulls at her restlessly.)

-

Niall doesn’t stay at Josh’s very long at first, occasionally staying the night, but that passes soon enough. They start watching movies together, hanging out and it’s nice, relaxed and like all the other friends she has.

That’s when she starts noticing little things here and there. Zayn’s little sketches left around the apartment; when Niall comes in the afternoons and the dishes haven’t been done and Zayn’s tea cup, half-finished with the tea bag left soggy on the side, sits between them on the counter.

Josh and Niall meet about twice a week, and she wonders if and how Zayn knows because they always seem to miss each other; Niall’ll come in sometimes and spot a fresh hickey peeking out from underneath his collar, or she’ll smell the still lingering scent of smoke on the balcony.

And maybe it should hurt or make her feel used when she goes to his place and she sees the _pow!_ tea cup sitting on his counter, or when she notices the small hand shaped bruises on his hips, but these little reminders start to seem normal, like Zayn’s supposed to be there. Afterwards though, she wonders if Zayn knows at all actually, if maybe all this time, it’s just been a coincidence or her own mind playing tricks on her. Josh has mentioned Zayn in passing only a few times, Zayn and her habit of leaving ash trays around the house or her hair products, but that’s all Niall knows.

Well that and the way Zayn kisses, sloppily sometimes, smearing red onto his collarbones, his collar, in the inside of his mouth so Niall feels like she’s licking it out; and carefully sometimes too, love bites scattered precisely across his chest like an art piece, like an escape.

So Niall wonders and tries to figure out the surge of heat she gets every time she thinks of Zayn, spread out underneath Josh or sleep-rumpled and cozy, drinking a cuppa in the mornings.

-

It starts to feel like some kind of fucked up game, and Niall doesn’t want to look too much into it because what kind of person would she be if she was turned on by the sight of love bites scattered over the hollow of his throat, purple and brutal, from someone else’s mouth.

Zayn’s everywhere, in his apartment, in the way he smiles, under her skin, so Niall starts leaving things around too – the snapback she always jams over her head when she can’t be bothered to do anything more with her hair, her loose tank that she changes into when she just wants to relax, some chord diagrams that she draws up on napkins for a song she’s writing.

She leaves them on his body too – the love bite on his hip, messy and crimson against his pale skin; mottled bruises left by the way Niall’s hands grip his shoulders when she’s riding him. And she waits. She doesn’t know for what: maybe an answer, an acknowledgement that she’s not alone, not playing this fucked up game by herself. She doesn’t know why it matters in the end, but still, she waits.

A week later though, she realizes that the love bite she left on the inside of his thigh, dark red when she first gave it and edged with messy lipstick, is there again in full vengeance the next week, blotchy with a lipstick mark edged around it, red like an apple they’ve both taken a bite out of and precise like purpose, like sin.

When she sees it, Niall pushes herself to her knees, wraps one hand around his cock. Josh makes a surprised noise when she does, and then groans when her tongue runs along the edge of the head. She runs her other hand up the inside of his thigh, stopping when she reaches the mark, and pushes down hard. He gives a startled moan and Niall pants against the bite as she jerks him off in rough pulls. She bites down on it when he comes, a bloom of heat settling along her ribs that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the reminder of Zayn.

-

The thing is though, is that Niall doesn’t really ever expect to meet Zayn. It’s kind of a naïve thought, seeing as they can’t keep up with this charade forever, but the idea of Zayn has become surreal now. It’s been a month since they’ve started this little game and Niall doesn’t even know what she looks like.

(Well, that’s a lie – Zayn’s not exactly a popular name, so it’s easy to find her, but she’s hardly on facebook. Niall does however, find Zayn’s twitter, and her profile picture is a filtered selfie of her and some curly-haired chick, both of them pouting at the camera; Niall hides a smile behind her sleeve when she finds it, both intimidated and endeared by this girl.)

So when Niall goes to some random uni party, she doesn’t expect to see Zayn, let alone run into her.

It goes something like this:

Niall’s headed around a corner, trying to find the bathroom and maybe a nice place to smoke the joint she has tucked into her pocket when she runs into somebody. She doesn’t recognize the body in front of her at first, Zayn’s head down and her hand lifted up toward her mouth, but Zayn lifts her head and then whatever apology Niall has on the back of her tongue dies off.

Niall registers sharpness at first, the curve of Zayn’s jaw, her cheekbones devastating in the low light, and then she registers softness, her eyes dark and wide, smudged with eyeliner and the sweep of her sooty eyelashes. Her mouth is soft, red like burning trees, like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room, and her fingers curve delicately around her unlit cigarette. The unexpected closeness in the way Zayn leans into her for a split second before stepping back, throws Niall off.

Zayn furrows her eyebrow, one of her hands smoothing back the fringe falling into her eyes. Niall’s eyes trace her hands, the slant of her mouth, the pink of her tongue slipping out to wet her lips. When Zayn turns around, Niall sees the way her hair falls across her back, long and tangled as she walks away, so unlike her own short, wavy hair, tucked underneath a snapback. Niall blinks, almost missing the way that Zayn glances back, and then she’s gone and Niall’s left with a pounding heart and an uneasy sense of butterflies revolting in her stomach.

-

Niall avoids Josh’s apartment for a week afterwards and he sends her a text message the 9th day she doesn’t contact him:

**u ok?**

She sighs and ignores him for another day before coming around at 10 the following day, fucking him hard into the couch.

She catches sight of a hickey on his shoulder and she leans down to bite into it savagely. Startled, he jerks up into her, his hands bruising for a second. She sinks into it, wonders if she’s allowing herself this or punishing herself.

-

Niall sighs. _Fucking hell_. Monday nights are the slowest, and she’s been standing in the same spot for about an hour and has only gone through an old lady and a drunk college kid she’s pretty sure is in her English lit class. She can feel her feet literally turning number by the minute.

She glances down at her phone, then sighs again. Only 45 minutes left and then her shift’s over and some other poor fuck has to handle closing.

Niall taps her fingers before slumping into her arms. She’d call Louis only she’s stuck in an equally miserable job waitressing across town. Maybe she can take a short nap, just shut her eyes for a moment.

She dozes briefly, but seconds, minutes later, she doesn’t know, a hand settles on her shoulder, shaking it gently, far gentler than some random stranger would.

Niall looks up and her stomach immediately drops. Because there’s Zayn, holding a pack of thick pens in one hand and a basket in the other, loaded up with eggs, a loaf of bread, and packs of ramen.

She raises an expectant eyebrow and Niall opens her mouth, about to spout off some rambling apology or curse, she doesn’t even know at this point, before Zayn says:

“Can you ring me up?”

Her voice is surprisingly northern, smoother and more heavily accented than Niall’d expected, though she’s not really one to complain given her own brogue.

Niall pauses, idly wonders if there’s gonna be some sort of cat fight (smiles vaguely at the idea) or acknowledgement (heart thundering at the idea), _something_ because Zayn doing nothing is worse and she needs some sort of nod to let her know that it hasn’t only been her that feels fucking weird and too invested in their whole situation.

Niall stumbles out an “o’course,”and throws out an awkward grin. She starts to ring Zayn’s stuff up, can’t help her glances upwards. It’s fucking surreal is what it is and more than a little awkward, but then Niall opens her mouth, means to say “that’ll be 15.73 mate,”and instead blurts out, “is that for your art then?”

Zayn blinks, staring for a second before she glances down at the pens and gives a nod, her mouth a little softer and her voice quiet when she says, “yeah, for outlining. I use them a lot for comics and stuff.”

The unspoken _I know_ hangs between them, like everything else, like the _I know the way you take your tea in the morning, I know you doodle when you’re bored, I know the way you kiss,_ but that goes unspoken as well.

“That’s cool. Wasn’t much of a comics kid or an artist, but I watch cartoons and stuff. Well not when I was younger, a lot more now actually,” Niall says and feels her face flush. She ducks her heard, cursing herself for being embarrassed when she has no fucking reason to be. So maybe it’s the girl that’s sleeping with the same guy she’s sleeping with, but it’s also _Zayn_ – the girl who has spiderman panties, who draws silly little doodles on the table, who prefers Yorkshire tea over coffee.

Zayn smiles. “Yeah, me too.” She gestures towards Niall’s chest.

“Like your shirt by the way; Marceline’s always been my favorite.”

Niall glances down, cheeks heating up – she’s embarrassingly grateful that today was laundry day and she picked her worn out Adventure Time t-shirt out from underneath a pile of clothes in her closet.

“Yeah she’s cool. I like Princess Bubblegum the most actually – all that candy and the rad chemistry chick thing she has going on.”

Zayn lets out a small laugh, nodding a bit and Niall’s grinning back, probably too wide, but she can’t bring herself to care. It’s a little better after that, Niall actually managing to ring Zayn’s purchases up so she can pay for them.

Zayn smiles, crooked and soft, when she takes the bags, and Niall feels like she’s on the edge, like she wants everything and then like she wants to run away. Zayn waves, says a soft, “bye Niall,” and then Niall thinks, _knows_ that she’s in fucking trouble.

-

It’s not a thing. Niall keeps on telling herself this even when Zayn comes by the next week, and then the following week, same time, clutching Yorkshire tea packets in her hand. Niall ducks her head, trying to hide her smile, but she thinks she fails, sees Zayn’s returning smile peeking out from behind her bitten lip.

Niall’s absentmindedly humming along to the song playing over the speakers, an old replay of Justin Bieber and Zayn grins, looks at her from underneath her lashes when she teases her with a “Bieber huh? damn Horan, should’ve told me that you had shit music taste in the first place, it’s too late now.”

Niall blinks, a little shocked and a lot pleased, and Zayn’s smile falters a bit when Niall stays silent, like she’s afraid maybe she’s gone too far. Niall belts out a loud laugh and grins, says back, “please Malik, I’ve seen your CDs around the place, can you do better?”

Zayn frowns, but her eyes are relieved, her voice coming out stronger when she retorts with a, “Frank and Drake could kick Bieber’s ass any day.”

Niall grins.

“If you say so Zayn.”

-

It’s been 6 weeks since the first time she saw Zayn at the market, and so far, Zayn hasn’t disappointed, coming in every Monday night for crisps or beer or art supplies. (“I’d go to the art store, but money’s a little tight at the mo and y’know it’s not like I’m professional or anything, so these pens work ok.” “Please Zayn, like we both haven’t seen your stuff before. Give yourself some credit mate, you’re no amateur either.” And Zayn had grinned at her, like she was surprised, like she was pleased that Niall’d paid attention to her drawings, even though they’re everywhere.)

One time, Zayn asks her about what kind of music she likes, if she plays anything or sings or something.

“Yeah I sing, play a bit o’acoustic guitar too actually.”

Zayn smiles wistfully.

“Oh, that’s really cool. I’ve always wanted to learn guitar but y’know, no money, no lessons.” Zayn shrugs.

And Niall. Niall thinks about what it’d feel like curving around Zayn, pressing right up to her back and showing her where to place her fingers for chords, hearing the intimate rumble of Zayn’s laugh from behind, fitting her hands to her ribs, kissing the back of Zayn’s neck.

“-ew movie out that I want to see? Pacific Rim. The last movie I was really into was The Avengers, but this looks really cool from what I’ve seen from the trailers.”

Zayn gives her an expectant look and Niall realizes she’s been talking all this time. She nods hastily, says “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to see that too, looks wicked.”

Zayn nods and continues talking, moving onto another subject. Niall sighs and leans her head against her fist, a silly smile on her face.

-

A few weeks later, Niall’s scanning out the one coke that Zayn’s bought and she taps at the screen, ringing her up slowly so they have more time to talk.

Niall grins, remembers one of their previous conversations, and says, “Y’know that singing thing you mentioned a while back, it’s weird but I’ve just remembered I auditioned for a singing show; summat called like,” she pauses, “X-Factor when I was 16, 17 I think.”

Zayn blinks and then she lets out a short laugh, reaching to punch Niall in the shoulder gently.

“No way, I tried out for X-Factor too! I mean I signed up and everything, but I sorta,” she rubs the back of her neck, “chickened out a bit?”

“I mean,” Zayn clarifies, “I’ve always loved singing, but it’s just something for fun and vocal lessons felt like a bit much, especially since my parents were already paying for art lessons as well.”

Niall shrugs, plays it off, because she knows the feeling – didn’t want her parents doing the same when she’d had guitar lessons. “Yeah well obviously I didn’t get in either, but I’m glad now y’know. I don’t think something like tha’s for me, especially alone!” Niall huffs out a laugh. “Seems fucking terrifying looking back.”

Zayn nods, inclines her head in agreement.

“Well, since you’re some hotshot musician,” Zayn grins, the edge of her smile teasing, “you should sing and play for me sometime.” Her voice softens in the end, turns a little shy like she doesn’t know if she’s allowed that yet.

Niall hands over her coke, grudgingly, and beams at her.

“I’d love to, mate.”

-

It’s Valentine’s Day in a couple of days and Niall’s shifting through Josh’s drawers while he’s in the bathroom, idly looking for that pair of knickers that she left the other day, her favorite, the ones with the pineapples and silly blue stripes on it.

Her and Josh have already agreed to spend Valentine’s Day apart; he’d told her that he’d be going out with a few friends and she’s already agreed to meet up with Louis at the local bar for a pub crawl.

She shifts around before lifting up a pair of briefs folded neatly, trying to be careful so she doesn’t mess everything up, and then she sees them tucked into the corner.

She grins, thankful it hadn’t become prey to the pile of clothes at the edge of the bed. She grabs them and a slip of paper falls out. Niall frowns, unfolds it and her breath catches (it shouldn’t really, it’s silly and she’s feels all of 14 fucking years old, but she can’t help the smile that unfurls over her face) - it’s a cartoon of herself; well sorta, it looks like Niall in a snapback and a pink Princess Bubblegum dress with candy hills and hearts in the background. The lines are bold, but traced carefully, like maybe Zayn had planned this out, or maybe like this was important to Zayn. There’s a scribble of _happy (late/early) valentine’s day!_ on the back. Niall grins and tucks the drawing into her palm, carefully folding it, and breathes out against the growing ache in her chest.

-

The thing is, the more time she spends with Zayn, the more she wonders. The conversation comes a lot sooner and a lot later than Niall expects, but it’s been in her thoughts for a while. It’s been eating at her, and she feels like an unexposed stitch, pulled at and on the edge of unraveling.

So one day, as Niall’s bagging Zayn’s purchases, this time actual groceries, she hesitates and asks Zayn (almost blurts it out), “so, um, how long have you been with Josh?”

She knows, from Josh that one time, but she wants to hear it from Zayn’s mouth, wants to know what Josh’s name sounds like slipping off her tongue, if it’s drenched in love or friendship or what. Niall’s still been seeing him – it’s the only way she can be with Zayn outside of their growing friendship. This way, she can still kiss Zayn’s lipstick off the corners of his mouth, can still have Zayn’s ash trays reminding her of the way she smells, both citrus-y and smoky.

Zayn pauses, her eyes a little wide. She licks her lips, opens her mouth, but her eyes already look a little more guarded.

“Not long, maybe a few months.” Her reply is terse, and she looks a little defensive at first, but then seems to sink into herself a little bit.

“I don’t know, Josh has always been a friend and it’s easy to just crash at his place rather than my shit hole of an apartment,” Zayn says, like she’s spent too long trying to justify something to people who don’t deserve her time. “I don’t love him or anything, but it’s just simple with him y’know. I don’t have to worry about bullshit questions or assholes butting into my business compared to say if I was with like, another girl.”

And really Niall should leave it at that. They’ve been doing well these past few weeks, and she feels like Zayn’s a friend now too, not just the other end of the rope in this game of tug-of-war they’ve been playing with each other. She understands; after all, Niall’s with him for basically the same reason and she herself hates relationship drama and all the shit that comes with it, but.

“Right, but it’s kinda resigning yourself to second-best?” Niall states, or ends up asking her. She doesn’t know where she’s going with this, _really_ doesn’t want to offend Zayn, but she’s got to get it out somehow.

She hasn’t told anyone, not even Louis, anything involving Zayn, has barely told her about Josh, strange on its own, and part of it is, that she doesn’t want to field questions left and right about everything, and part of it is, that this feels infinitely more precious than anything she’s ever had with someone and she wants to keep Zayn to herself, if not in a real sense, then at least in this.

“If, hypothetically speaking here,” Niall says and glances at Zayn, “there was a best already or maybe not the best, but like, someone with the potential to be the best there, for you, and you just chose the easier road because, well, it’s easier obviously, you’ll never know. You’ll never know what it feels like to take that chance, to be happy, to not have everything be easy but actually, to have something _good_.”

Niall pauses. “Y’know, hypothetically speaking.”

She turns to look at Zayn and she has an unreadable look on her face.

“Did that make sense? Like at all?”

Zayn looks down and then huffs out a laugh.

“As much sense as I could make out I suppose.”

They’re silent after that and Niall gives her a wave and a grin when she hands over her bag, hoping she hasn’t screwed up whatever tenuous _thing_ they have between them. Zayn gives her a crinkly-eyed smile in return and Niall feels her heart settle - either way, she’ll have Zayn and she’s glad for that.

-

After that, Niall stops meeting with Josh. He takes it easy enough, gives her a hug and a, “it’s been fun huh blondie,” and Niall wasn’t lying when she said it was easy with him, but she also knows that she can’t stay there anymore. It feels like she’s betraying two people now, and if she were ever to be with Zayn like she’s figuring out she wants to be, then she wants it to be just the two of them, no barrier, no hideaway.

But honestly, that doesn’t look like it’s happening anytime soon. Zayn missed their meeting last week and it left Niall empty, and she doesn’t like feeling like that – at the whim of someone else, not the carefree self that she’s grown into and quite frankly, loves. So she thinks maybe some time apart would be good. Maybe to get over Zayn or maybe to realize that even if Zayn doesn’t want to be with her, that she still wants Zayn as a friend.

As of now though, Niall’s at some college pub downtown, meeting up with a few of her uni friends. It’s relaxing, uncomplicated in a way that lets her laugh, not hyperaware of someone else or her own movements. One of her friends is in the middle of some story when Niall decides she needs some air – it’s getting to be a little stuffy now with so many people crowded in on a Friday night. She taps her nearby friend, nods towards the door, and extracts herself from the table.

She pushes through the door and breathes in, expecting a surge of icy air and instead immediately coughing when she inhales a cloud of smoke. She hears a “shit, sorry babe, you ok?” a few feet away, and sees Zayn, her hair pulled up in a ponytail and glasses perched on her nose, trying to wave away the smoke.

They both pause when they make eye contact, and Zayn looks away first. She looks nervous for some reason and brings her cigarette up for another pull. It’s distracting as fuck, and Niall reaches across the chasm to pull out a, “So how have ya been? Haven’t seen you in a while,” praying her voice is sure and not hopeful.

Zayn fidgets with the hem of her shirt before her shoulders hunch and she stubs out her cigarette. There’s a resolute look in her eyes.

“Niall, I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she says; right away, Zayn seems to lose some of her bravado, her voice petering off, and Niall leans in, gives her arm a reassuring squeeze because Zayn’s still a friend, has become something of a best friend really with how comfortable she’s become around her.

Zayn takes a deep breath, seemingly forces herself to make eye contact with a point just above Niall’s left shoulder.

“And, you’re right. What I had was easy and maybe it was something I used to want, but it wasn’t what I needed. What I need, what I _want_ now, is,” Zayn trails off, looks towards Niall, something in her eyes like a question, like an answer, like - like.

Niall leans in and Zayn brings a hand up to grasp the back of her neck, her fingers running under the edge of her snapback. Zayn lets out a soft sound when Niall gently presses her lips to her’s, slow even though after a second, Zayn’s fingers tighten and haul her in closer so Niall has to bring her arms out, brace herself against the wall to keep herself from crushing Zayn.

Zayn makes a soft noise into her mouth, and Niall thinks fuck it, opens her mouth with a gentle tongue. Zayn’s warm, so warm in the alley they’re standing in, and this close, Niall can feel the unsteady breaths she huffs out between kisses, the heady scent of cigarettes and tangerines, the stickiness of Zayn’s lipstick as she slides her lips over Niall’s, over and over.

Eventually Niall pulls away, and Zayn runs her mouth down Niall’s jaw, over the hollow of her throat, her mouth working softly over the skin to make a mark. Niall moans breathlessly, clutches at Zayn’s back, and she feels Zayn press a gentle kiss there and lift her head.

Niall takes a second to memorize Zayn’s face, her flushed cheeks and her swollen lips. Her eyes are dark and molten, and Niall wants to ruin her, wants to hear Zayn moaning around her fingers, lick her out till she’s begging, and leave messy love bites up and down the insides of her thighs like she’s been wanting to for weeks. But.

But it’s too late and Niall still wants to know too many things right now, namely if Zayn’s still “with” Josh or not, and what this means for them, for her. But mostly, she just wants to see Zayn tucked into her bed, sleepy and rumpled in the mornings, and be able to greet her with a kiss. Niall sighs and pulls back, smoothing back Zayn’s hair and darting in for one last kiss before pulling away completely. Zayn smiles at her, bright and unburdened, and Niall thinks at least for now, she doesn’t want anything else – this is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on my tumblr (letsgetsomecake)


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